Reflection
by BE-Mistress
Summary: ONESHOT MS. On a rainy school night, Sango goes over to Miroku's apartment to study.


A/N: Ah geez. I don't even know what to call this. Just something I randomly wrote a while ago. I won't blame you if you fall asleep halfway through, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't lol. Just a fic to read if you're bored on a Friday night :)

Sorry for the bad grammar.

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**Reflection  
**_1FRICKENgirl_

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She strained her eyes to stay open and concentrate on the text before her. Her mind was intensely burning from the excess information she was trying desperately to squeeze into her brain. But if there was ever a time she needed to focus and stay dedicated to the task at hand, it was now.

"Wooo, she _uugggLYY_!"

She squinted her eyes tightly, as if it would make her ears follow the same suit.

"…Damn, that one's worse."

She tried to recite her biology mnemonics instead.

"Hah, that one looks like Inuyasha."

She couldn't take it anymore. She slammed her fists on the table and glared his way. "Miroku!" she hissed.

He looked up from the television at the sound of her voice. "Oh, don't worry, Sango; you're pretty," he assured her with a valiant grin.

She narrowed her eyes. "Can you _please_ keep your comments to yourself?"

He paused for a moment before his eyes fell upon the mountain of papers and stack of textbooks by his computer desk. His mouth slowly formed an 'O' shape and he brushed her concerns away with a shaking gesture of his hand. "Gomen, gomen. I won't bother you anymore."

"You already promised me that ten minutes ago."

He blinked, gazing towards the digital clock beside him just to make sure. "Well, two promises are better than one!" he said in an upbeat tone.

Hers remained unchanged. "This is your forth one."

"Oh." He turned to the television show before him. He gave a light chuckle. "It's a very distracting show," he explained. "I'll… read the newspaper instead."

She smiled in content. "Thank you."

He reached behind him and grabbed the day's paper. He began to flip through it leisurely.

She returned to her studies, but still found it still hard to concentrate. Should she just give up on the biology and go back to finishing her essay? After all, it was the reason she came here in the first place. But writing was so boring. She'd rather be outside… on the balcony… under the stars… danc-

"Good Buddha, she needs a butt-job."

She faced him in fury. "Miroku!"

He raised his hands in impulsive defence. "I'm sorry, but-" He pointed to the female in the photograph. "She _really_ needs one; it's a disgrace to all women, really," he argued.

Sango closed her eyes and tried to suppress her irritation. Humour quickly got the better of her and she burst out in a fit of giggles at his accusations of the poor woman.

He continued to stare at the female's picture in disgust. "I mean it! When you become a doctor, you should fix her up."

Sango stopped laughing. She turned back to her textbooks. "You sound so sure of it."

"I have no reason not to be," he replied. "I know you're smart, so of course you'll make it."

She blushed lightly at his comment. "No, I'm not."

"Yeah, you are."

"You're just saying that."

He nodded. "Yeah, I am."

She hurled an object at him angrily.

He dodged it with a grin. "I'm kidding. Everyone knows you're smart. Everyone knows you can be a doctor if you want."

She sighed. "I guess." She turned to him with a narrow stare. "But I'm not going to be a plastic surgeon so that woman's going to have to find someone else."

Miroku smirked. "You're just afraid you'll be too good at it and she'll turn out lookin' gorgeous and I'm going to be dating her."

She scoffed, "Please."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Oo'kay then…" he said in a deliberate tone.

She stared at his smug face, prepared to slap the expression right off. "I only came here to use your computer, you know," she said suddenly.

He continued to look interested in the article he was reading.

"I would've gone to Kagome's, but she needs to use it as well."

He tossed the newspaper away and got out a magazine instead.

"The library isn't open today, and my essay's due tomorrow. As well, I need to study for biology – which you have notes on." She stared at his calm appearance. "…And that's why I _had _to come here." She grew upset at his ignorance. "Miroku!"

"Yyyess?"

"Did you hear me?"

"Yyyess…"

"What did I say?"

"That you love me."

She let out a heavy sigh, failing to hide a smile. "You're so – You're just…" She shook her head. "Nevermind." She returned to typing her essay.

After a few seconds, he became bored. Placing aside his magazine, he got up from the couch and went to her side. He placed two hands firmly on her shoulders. "Hey, what are you writing about anyway?"

She twitched her mouth to the side. "One of her 'reflection' essays."

He began to massage her shoulders gently. "Why don't you take a break? Want something to eat?"

She shook her head. "I can't." She glanced at the clock. "It's nearly midnight. I'll never finish in time, let alone take a break."

He rubbed her shoulders more intensely. "It will allow you to refresh your mind. You can't write if you're too tired to think."

She groaned and stretched her neck back to lean her head against him. "I know… But I have to finish this."

He stopped and plopped himself back on the couch. "Just a quick break. Get up and walk around at least."

"No," she refused. "I need to do well on this assignment. And then I have to study for my biology. I don't have time to relax." She then went quiet. "Besides, I really need the right grades." She thought of Kohaku and their grandmother's home. "Becoming a doctor is not easy work you know, and I have to be consistently on top of my school work."

Miroku scoffed. "You're not even in medical school yet. Sango, you're putting to much pressure on yourself."

She knew he was right. "It doesn't matter. You understand, Miroku; my family's not exactly rich."

He sighed at her answer. "Ten minutes. Just ten minutes away from the computer and books; can you do that?"

She hesitantly shook her head. "I have work tomorrow too," she groaned.

Impatient, he stood up and pulled her off the chair. "C'mon, I know you want to go out on the balcony," he teased.

She drew back shyly. "No," she protested. "Miroku, I can't." She glanced out the window. "Besides, it's raining. My clothes will get wet."

He shrugged his shoulders plainly. "Then take them off."

He dodged her slap.

She brought her hand back to her hips and stared at him with an angry expression. "Hentai," she muttered.

"It was only a suggestion," he replied innocently.

She shook her head at him.

He grabbed her wrist and dragged her towards the balcony. "Ten minutes," he repeated. "…I've gotten better, let me show you."

She laughed softly, trying to resist the temptation, but eventually followed him anyway.

Once outside, she noticed the gushes of droplets rushing down from above and spilling over the terrace infinitely. Overflowing pools of water had formed in the seat of his chairs and raindrops were splattering against the windows, compelling it to break. The wind blasted through every crack and crevice, turning at every corner to bite every living soul with a haunting chill. Above was a shroud of never-ending blackness, stars obscured by jealous clouds crying out their sorrows and pain for the entire city to hear.

She shuddered at her surroundings, but he continued to lead her to the edge of the rail. "So… you've been practicing?" she asked.

He yanked her towards him and leaned the side of his head against hers. "Nope," he replied simply. "I've just gotten better."

She laughed at his conceited statement, and then took a steady step back. A smile was already pinned to her face, and she withdrew one of her arms from him, leaning to the side.

And then, in a flash, the world around her became obsolete except for the man in front of her and the smooth music playing in her mind. She stepped elegantly, with unrivalled grace and serene gestures. With a calm, straight face, and perfected ballerina spins. Dancing came naturally to her.

When she was young, she watched her parents dance to their favourite music tapes and longed to learn to dance with exact poise and class just like them. When they suddenly died, she felt even more eager to dance. It reminded her of them. It reminded her of her childhood. It reminded her of the good days. The happy days.

She promised herself she would teach Kohaku, no matter how much he'd protest. Dancing was important to her, a significant part of her life.

But other things have been getting in the way lately. Her grandmother has been sick for the past few weeks and she's been unable to keep up with the household chores. With her job and schoolwork keeping her terribly busy, still, Sango felt guilty asking Kohaku to help out so much around the house.

At times she'd come home from work at ten in the evening, do her homework, do the chores and barely get two hours of sleep before readying herself for school in the morning. She'd wind up sleeping during class despite her attempts.

"Sango."

She glanced up at him, slightly dazed. "Yes?"

"You're not concentrating."

She gave him a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

"You're thinking of something… Something important."

She shook her head in disagreement. "Don't be silly." Then she felt _it_. And she reached up to give him a sharp slap to the face. "How long has your hand been there?" she shouted at him, breaking away from his embrace.

He smirked, cupping his swollen cheek. "Told ya you weren't concentrating."

She shook her head in disgust at his behaviour and lazily pulled herself to the rail. She stared out at the wet city.

He came behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his head on hers affectionately. "You're doing it again," he told her. "What are you thinking of?"

"My essay."

He gently ran his hands over her abdomen. "C'mon, it's not even ten minutes yet."

She sighed. "…And Kohaku… and Grandma."

He let out an exasperated groan. "Sango…"

"And of my future… of Kohaku's future."

He kissed her softly on the cheek. "I already told you, don't worry about it. I'll get rich and you'll marry me. All your problems will be gone."

She laughed quietly at his proclamation. Her eyelids began to feel heavy. "And how exactly will you become rich?"

"Don't you worry about that either." He squeezed her body slightly. "You just worry about what gown you want to wear for our wedding day."

She closed her eyes briefly. "I don't know, Miroku…"

"What, you don't think I'll do it?"

"You make it sound so easy."

He shrugged his shoulders. "You make it so complicated."

Her legs felt weak and her head a bit droopy. "I'm being realistic."

"Well, I don't like reality."

She leaned against him entirely, eyes still closed, ears listening to the raindrops. "Me neither," she muttered with a faint smile.

She fell into a deep sleep a few minutes later, and he debated on whether or not to wake her so she could go home and change out of her wet clothes… or should he do it for her. The second idea seemed to be out of the question and so he simply resorted to bringing her inside, drying her with a towel, and settling her down on the couch, blanket tightly wrapped around her.

He would wake her later, he decided. By then it'd be too late for her to even think about going back to her grandmother's home and she would be forced to stay with him in his empty apartment, just like every other night she came over. He'd have to set aside a set of dry clothes for her as well.

After placing her down on the couch, he quickly went over to the computer. He glanced at the clock. With a weary sigh, he lightly read over her half-written essay.

He knew he wasn't much of a writer, and would probably do more damage to it than intended. But he just couldn't bring himself to wake her, bring her back to reality. No, not yet.

The rain continued to splatter outside, and the lamp beside him constantly flickered. But it didn't bother him.

It was a good thing this was a reflection essay. It shouldn't take him long to do considering how well he knew her. Maybe he'd even have time left to finish up her biology. Maybe. Leaning back against the chair, he settled in for another long night, letting the honesty of her words and the innocence of her voice guide his fingers to type with the purity and compassion that he knew lay within her heart.

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_Thanks for reading. **Please Review.** _


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